Some of us like EVERY Fenris/Hawke moment – others prefer the "make up" moment in Act 3, which is especially adorable.
Hahahaha – I found a typo in the last chapter. "Fneirs" - I laughed way too loud after I smacked my forehead.
Not gonna change it. It brings me joy.
I WUV YOU FNEEEEIRS.
Partial warning: A scene near the bottom of this chapter may not be SFW. It's not a lemon, more like a lime.
Recap: Marian and Fenris are still trapped within Fausta's rule, but Fenris has composed an "escape" plan. Fausta's daughter Amelia drives Marian insane with increasing frequency, and Marian has taken it upon herself to be a good role model for the young elf Pana. Marian is still in a state of excitement after learning that Varania herself is a mage, and the last chapter ended with some fluffy bits.
This suspense is terrible. I hope it will last. – Oscar Wilde
12. The Escape
We sat in the dark for a while after he had eaten his late meal, speaking quietly amongst the rags and buckets. The pallet I had lain upon while injured had finally been removed, but we didn't mind lying on the floor. The dust had become less oppressive, considering how often we had snuck away to be together in the clammy closet.
"Where have you been going off to?" I asked curiously, picking at a loose thread on his dirty tunic. "You've been away so often recently," I stated with a pout.
"So full of questions tonight," Fenris groaned, staring up at the ceiling with his neck propped against the wall. "Must you always be so inquisitive?"
"I must," I said solemnly, laying my head on his firm chest. "If I don't ask all of my questions, I will eventually spontaneously combust into a thousand flames- do you really want that to happen?"
He hummed, and I poked his stomach. "My duty," he finally answered, a hint of discomfort in his voice. "As protector." His fingers began a circuit on my arm – trailing with aching lightness from just below my elbow, all the way up to circle my shoulder – slowly and delicately touching the skin, nearly soothing me into a slumber.
My lips curled indulgently at the reminder of his role – protector. To one of the infallible magisters, the mages who boasted endless power, Fenris – the slave – remained the defender and guard.
I prodded his belly button, a little disappointed when he didn't squirm.
"I am glad that I am not so uncertain in my own abilities that I need to employ," I paused, "or own, rather, someone whose sole duty is to protect my life."
Fenris chuckled thinly, sliding the palm of his hand over my shoulder before resuming his unmarked track. "And if a person wishes to keep you safe of their own free will?"
My grin widened; I hid it in the folds of his shirt. "I suppose I wouldn't mind then," I grudgingly mumbled into his chest.
His hand stopped its course mid stroke; when it did not resume, I shifted until my chin sat atop his breastbone and I could see his face as his head propped against the wall.
Fenris stared at the dark ceiling, a stony expression sculpting his features into all sharp, hard angles and grim lips.
"Hey," I murmured, scooting closer to his face. I placed a small kiss across the dip in skin between the tip of his chin and bottom lip. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply through his nose. I pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth, letting my hair and nose graze his cheek. My breasts pressed against his firm chest as I leaned downward again, touching my mouth to his, feeling the contrasting soft and hard touches his body could afford me.
His mouth was hot, and I carded my fingers through his bangs, cradling his cheek. When I pulled back, I noticed his brow had pulled further together.
"What's wrong, Fenris?" I asked again before placing slow kisses up the side of his face. When I reached the apple of his cheek, I pressed my forehead against his and stared into his shrouded face, trying to place whatever unsettled emotion that I found there. "You should be happy," I encouraged weakly, kissing the tip of his nose.
"I should," Fenris said in a sigh. "My apologies if I'm ruining your good mood."
"I would rather you be honest with your feelings," I said, sliding my hands onto his chest and pushing backwards until I was seated upright. "I care about what you're thinking, Fenris."
He said nothing; I listened to his steady breathing for a moment, thinking absently about his self-proclaimed suitor status. "Thank you for my flower," I said bashfully, sliding the tip of a finger around his chest. I had stuck the flower through a thread on the inside of my frock so that it would not be seen – but it could remain close to my heart.
It was, quite possibly, the most meaningful thing anyone had ever given me.
I spent most of my life bestowing gifts upon my friends and family; it was easy, giving up the things that I had. Most of my life had been spent having nothing and breaking my back to keep my family safe and provided for; I knew what depression and fear felt like, and could see variables of the emotions in my companions. It made me feel accomplished to make peoples' lives brighter by offering kind words or a special trinket.
Never had I expected some gesture in return; the reward was in giving something meaningful to someone else, in showing them that someone appreciated them enough to have them in their thoughts.
Now, I knew the extraordinary feeling of being remembered. Of being present in someone's thoughts – enough so that something beautiful would remind them of me.
It almost brought tears to my sat up as well, changing the blending shadows in the room as he shifted around. "I need to leave soon," he said, stretching his back. I grimaced as I heard his facet joints pop and crack.
"Where will you be going?" I placed a hand on his covered leg, already missing menial contact with him.
Attached? Maybe.
He tried to smile; I could see the effort he took in morphing his expression, but the emotion fell flat as he gazed at the back of my hand. "Nowhere distinctly special; I must guard the Mistress tonight."
"Fausta," I corrected stubbornly. "You're guarding Fausta tonight. You won't be a slave for much longer, Fenris."
Fenris did muster up a smile at that, although a short lived, weak one. "Yes," he said, turning his head. "I'm sorry that I cannot spend the night with you again."
"Don't worry about that," I said, my mouth screwing oddly. Something heavy – an awful, overbearing weight – perched itself precariously inside of my chest, the size and feeling of it formidable and dark.
I couldn't imagine from where the odd feeling originated. "We'll be leaving soon, anyway – no more sleepless nights apart anymore, right?"
Nothing to worry about.
"Yes," Fenris said again, his voice a mere wisp in the dark.
My hands trembled as something ominous perched outside perimeter of my paranoia. I breathed through my nose, trying to calm myself.
I was certain he could feel the tickle of my shaking fingers on his leg, though he didn't say anything.
What the shit is wrong with me?
The rising force overtook me, and I flung myself onto him. The panic I had attempted to suppress crashed over me again and I straddled his lap, forcing myself against him. He jerked in surprise when my mouth collided with his and I moved against him, moaning desperately into his mouth and still trembling.
I'm sorry, I pleaded in my mind, pressing myself down onto him. I needed him – the feeling scorched at my insides until I gave myself over it. He stiffened and finally returned my kiss with muted passion, a dull flame in comparison to my roaring fire. I could feel him, though, beneath me, his desire stirring as I molded my hands over his cheeks and held him to me in a searing kiss that seemed to last a lifetime without waning an inch in intensity.
My voice shook when I finally released him and spoke, my hands dropping from his face reluctantly. "Forgive me," I said, shuddering as the after affects of the sharp nervousness held onto me. "I – I don't know why –"
He said nothing, but when I didn't move from overtop him he slid his hand across the small of my back comfortingly. "It's fine, Marian." His voice was stretched thin over gravel. I pulled away contritely, fighting off the overbearing feelings as I climbed off of him, worried that I had overstepped a boundary.
"Sorry," I whispered again, wrapping my arms around my stomach and staring away from him.
I heard Fenris sigh, and then he inched closer. "You took me by surprise," he explained, holding out his open arms to me. I looked up at him a moment, gauging his sincerity, before crawling back to him, clenching my eyes and feeling his arms wrap around me securely.
"I don't know what came over me," I said after a few moments of quietly being held by Fenris.
"Would it help to know that I sometimes feel the exact same way?" he asked, and I snorted.
"I doubt it. I think I'm unstable." I shuffled until I was back on his lap – so comforting, so sweet, and – and -
"Oh," I said, shifting again, and I saw him wince. I giggled at his discomfort. "Sorry," I apologized, not exactly meaning it. "I didn't mean to..." I slid my backside over his erection again and he groaned and tried to push me off of him.
I bit my lip in a smile and the timid little girl within me was erased.
Maybe a sexy cuddle is good for every once in a while. For more than a few reasons.
"I need to go," Fenris said gruffly, rising.
"Are you certain?" I asked, eyeing the bulge in his thin pants shamelessly. "I could possibly help you with your problem. Or give you few more problems."
"Only a few?" He turned away from me, blocking off my line of sight in an incredibly embarrassed – and cute - move. "I have my orders," he said uncomfortably, adjusting his pants.
"If you say so," I said, a little disappointed.
I could give you a few orders.
"Good night, Marian," Fenris said, and I stood as well, beckoning him over. He obliged, and I gave him another wet kiss on the heart of his mouth.
When I pulled away, the unnamed emotion had returned to his expression. "Good night, Fenris," I bid him, watching as he turned his back to me and exited.
After a few minutes of standing alone in the dark, I made the decision to go lie down with Pana and try to get some sleep. When I finally mustered the will to step from the room, I placed a name to the tight expression he had borne – the unsettling cold look in his eyes during a moment that should have been tender.
Dread.
Pana remained undisturbed by my sudden presence beside her; she was snuggled against the wall when I wriggled my way beneath the hulking closet, shutting my mind off and allowing myself to relax.
Nothing to be afraid of, I wished to say as feelings of sadness mingled within me; it took minutes of lying in the dark, hearing the breathing of sleeping elves all around me, to even myself out and find a somewhat peaceful rest.
-E-
It was raining.
She had no explanation for why; she cast her clear eyes to the sky, imagining that she could see the hand of the Maker sweeping through the black, roiling clouds.
Her chin tipped downwards again, her wet hair sticking to her cheek. The pinpricks of rain were cold on her skin, and though she was mostly covered with clothing, she could feel the tapping of the drops plainly as if they were slapping her bare body.
White flashed before her eyes and she focused on a pinpoint in front of her; taking off into a straight line, she ran purposefully toward the object – the object which grew into a blurry figure the closer she came.
Her surroundings were a mesh of gray and black, melding together around the person in front of her. He was tall, thin, but muscular – soaking white hair leaked streams of water from the sky onto his shirtless back, the liquid tracing the curves of pale tattoos that decorated his entire frame.
He was beautiful.
She blinked, slowing her run to marvel further at the broad expanse of his shoulders – she could see the drooping point of his ear and knew him to be an elf.
Didn't he know it was raining?
She was at his back, then, gazing upon his marked skin with amazement – the grace of the stylistic tattoos was unfounded. With a smile she stepped forward and turned her head, preparing to address him and tell him how gorgeous she found him.
The compliment stalled in the back of her throat.
His eyes were clenched shut – in anger, pain, sorrow? His teeth were bared in a fearsome grimace; she raised her hand to try and touch his shoulder, but thunder struck sharply and she jerked away in surprise.
"Do you need help?" the replacement words fell from her lips.
Green, agonized eyes turned to her. "Why, hawk?" he asked, the question meaningless. She stared at his face for a moment more before movement below caught her gaze.
The white lines on his skin had began to dance, glowing and rolling around his skin, twisting into new shapes and forming new patterns before her eyes – new possibilities, she thought. She reached to touch them, curious to see if she could change their position herself and alter the way they formed on his skin.
When the tip of her index finger made contact with his shoulder, the elf howled and collapsed onto his knees, body bowed backward and face bared to the sky. She flinched again at the sharp, painful sound, and when she reopened her eyes, his skin had twisted the elf from something beautiful to something sinister, blistering and darkening until his skin was marred and fiendish.
His tormented screaming filled the air. She backed away in horror, covering her mouth with her hand.
"How could you do this to me?"
My head slammed into hard wood and lights flashed before my eyes with the blinding pain that followed. I mouthed ow, feeling tears collect behind my eyelids.
Fuckshit that hurt.
How did I manage to jerk awake? I had been sleeping beneath the hulking bit of furniture for how long, exactly?
I unclenched my body after the pain dulled to a throb and noticed that a ringing bell had awoken me – one of the bells that announced the changing hour.
It was time to rise. Pana was awake as well, though I wasn't sure if that was my fault or the bell's.
I stretched my tightly-coiled body, bowing backwards as my fingertips brushed the outside of the furniture piece. I yawned, shaking off the bruising pain as well as the old discomforts that came with sleeping on a cold, hard floor.
One day, your body will be used to this.
It was all that damn pampering up in Hightown – it's made you soft, Hawke.
"Good morning," I greeted, rubbing my fingers against my forehead and peaking sideways and the yawning Pana, who raised her eyebrows at me.
"Morning," she returned with a brief sigh before I rolled out from underneath the closet to prepare for another day.
I took a deep breath and combed my hair with my fingers, pushing the oily tresses away from my face and forcing myself to exude an air of calm with every swipe, despite the goose egg that I just knew was growing ripe on my face.
Pana followed me, and I helped her comb her tidy hair into a high bun at the back of her head, securing it with a bit of rope saved for such nuisances. With a kiss on her cheek, we headed to the door, avoiding some of the still-sleeping slaves that had duties that lasted later than ours.
"Have a good day," I grumbled.
-E-
Vallow and I made quite a team – with the other elves working alongside, of course. We all pitched in seamlessly throughout the day, mending and sweeping and shining in turn. No slave ever sat still, and now that I knew the rhythm to the cleaning force of the mansion, the only thing left to learn was simply the matter of stepping into tune.
We all worked together perfectly.
"Drehal!" somebody hissed as the sound of quick, slapping feet echoed down the hallway.
A muted shout, and the elf boy Drehal slid across the freshly-mopped floor across the room from Vallow and I. We simultaneously dropped our mops, and I kicked myself into gear to try and catch his fall.
Drehal nearly flew as he landed on his back hard, spinning to the wall. My feet slipped below me and I scrambled to find purchase and balance on the soapy floor, sliding clumsily on my bare feet in the direction that the elf boy headed. He took out a shiny blue vase with him, shattering it to bits and undoubtedly cutting himself up in the process.
It was quite a racket, and of course, Fenris showed up not a moment later – though I didn't see him until I had already collapsed soundly on my ass.
I raised my hand to him as I daintily rose stepped over to Drehal, who was shaking with adrenaline – or fear. I patted his head and examined his cuts, noting that they didn't seem to be too serious. I offered him my hand and glanced to Vallow, who had already set to cleaning up the remains of the deceased vase. Together, Drehal and I – trailed closely by Fenris - walked through the kitchen, which was silent, as it was too early for anyone to even begin preparations for breakfast. I held onto the trembling boy, my hand firmly on his shoulders and his arm wrapped around my waist.
Fenris dutifully followed.
He had to know that I would not let him so much as touch the boy aggressively at this point.
Still, he trailed.
I took Drehal into the room for the slaves, since it was mostly empty – Fenris entered quietly behind us, shutting the door silently and looking for all the world completely rumpled and tired.
I sighed before addressing the boy.
"Are you okay?" I asked, looking him over. He had a slight gash near his elbow, but it wasn't exactly life threatening. He nodded slowly, sending fearful glances toward Fenris. I glanced over my shoulder at the prowling elf. "You're insane if you think I'll let you lay a hand on him," I said, raising my chin defiantly. "It was an accident. Go stalk a cupboard."
Fenris sighed, though not irritably.
Almost like he had to put effort into sounding put off.
Maker forbid he ever lose his mean streak.
"It's my job," he groused, crossing his arms and taking a step forward – which, with his long legs, took him pretty far.
"No, no, no," I contradicted, pushing Drehal behind me. "Your job is to protect Fausta from assassins and murderers – not little boys."
Fenris pinched the bridge of his nose, but the corners of his mouth twitched. "I will not be forced to punish you for disobeying – again."
"Too bad," I quipped, pulling the boy to the closet Pana and I slept beneath, not trusting Fenris for a second. I opened the door and fished around for a dusty bandage kit we used in case of accidents and wished that I could just magic the pains away.
Too risky. Keep that magic under lock and key, woman.
"Try to be more cautious in the future, Drehal," I advised as I made certain that the wound was clean and adjusted his bandage so that it wouldn't shift.
I felt Fenris at my back, his presence warm but commanding. "Be careful, Marian," he grumbled, making me smile.
Growing up, Fen? Had this incident happened a month ago, he would have cracked his whip before I even had the chance to whisk the boy away from the scene.
"I usually am," I whispered over my shoulder. He captured my waist with his hand, tugging me backward long enough to plant a kiss on my neck.
The boy watched with wide eyes, and I grimaced; though Fenris pulled away quickly, I could feel the sting of his lips on the sensitive skin as he turned and left without another word, leaving me to fret internally over the boy who just witnessed a public display of affection from the house punisher.
Though, I suppose that if Drehal were to turn us in, it would be for something besides Fenris being overly friendly with me.
"Try not to be in such of a hurry all the time," I said soothingly, patting the elf's head again as he stared up at me blankly. The door shut behind Fenris's back and I relaxed further, telling Drehal to go wipe down the kitchen one last time before the cooks inhabited their roost and not to run in the house for the millionth time. I stood for a moment, listening to the next round of bells and sighing to myself before I left to find Vallow and rejoin the dizzying routine of the estate.
There seemed to be thousands of floors to sweep and mop, but at least I no longer saw myself as working alone – I had an armada of cleaning slaves by my side, and together we conquered the tyranny of the dastardly, damnable dust.
...we cleaned a lot.
It was an hour or two later that I saw Fenris.
"We will be officially released from Fausta's ownership today," he murmured by my temple as we crossed paths, his lips grazing the shell of my ear as he leaned in close to speak. Once the final word left his mouth, he continued on his path, leaving me in one of the house's corridors.
Today.
Today?
I turned to watch him leave, a bucket of water weighing one arm and a mop in the other, staring at his lean, lanky form as he departed.
"Today," I spoke, my throat barely vibrating with the sounds.
Excitement burst through my veins – leaving, Fenris and I!
I'll have to cook him a proper meal – when we get the funds for it, of course, but I bet he's never had anything as delicious as my homemade apple pie and – oh, we'll sleep beneath the stars as free beings again, touching and pleasuring and – I'll teach him to read again, and -
I forced myself to calm and resume my work, stamping out the jittery compulsions lodging within my very muscles.
He would be visiting his mother and sister for the last time before we would all be freed – I hoped that he would even bring them back with him so we might depart together. If not, I had told him to inform them that they were to cross to Marnus Pell, a place where I knew we would be able to find a decent port. It was dangerous to head directly into Minrathous or to linger in places where freed slaves were unwanted, and finding an able ship would be first priority.
And if none would take us, at least we could convene at that point and head south together.
Fenris would be donning his leather armor for this occasion to play his part in accompaniment to the Magister while she visited and participated in a seasonal brunch with one of her friendlies – who so happened to be in possession of two elven slaves with flames for hair.
"Tell them I said 'hello', all right?"
There was no pomp or fanfare for Fausta's departure, and I was to understand that they were to return before lunch – that would only give Fenris about two hours to spend with his mother and sister, if the horses were surefooted and the weather remained decent.
I groaned, pressing the heel of my palm into my eye. Selfish woman.
But it would not be a meeting cut short – only a meeting postponed – and that offered me comfort, quelling some of the gloomy sympathy I held for Fenris.
Vallow and I worked in the slaves' quarters for the better part of the morning, mopping barren, fetid and cracked floors. Her clothes were modest, compared to my own; they dusted around her knees but left her strong, toned calves exposed to the heated, dry air.
My hip checked the bulky closet against the wall, and I glared at it for a full five seconds before resuming my scrubbing of the floor – with no comment from the dark-haired Vallow.
She's quiet, I thought, casting soap upon the floor, watching as she shoved the recently-scorned closet away from our workspace with her feet. But strong.
I had seen her toss around massive loads of laundry like they were a child's toys; she was a powerful specimen, for a sinewy, lithe elf. An asset anywhere. I could see her evolving into a quiet-stepping, keen rogue or even a dealer of secrets – one of Varric's spies.
He can never have too many spiders skittering around his web. Especially trustworthy ones.
Any scenario would be preferable to her living out the remainder of her life cleaning chamber pots and dusting maddeningly-clingy knickknacks.
Maker, I wished that I could take her with us.
"Did you know Kornyn well?" I quietly asked, assuring that my voice didn't carry far over the sound of our brushes scraping in tandem. In my first few weeks working for Fausta, I had only mingled with a few people – Svanna, Kornyn, Fenris, and Pana. Everyone else was either hesitant or uninterested – it was as if Vallow and the others hadn't even existed. I wondered if they had their own alliances, if everyone knew the lovable Kornyn or if only a few were granted the privilege of being his friend.
"Yes," Vallow answered, succinct and barely audible. She worked over a greasy spot where a dirty, unwashed slave had lain to sleep, her arm trembling with the rapid, jolting movements.
"He was an interesting boy." Was. The past-tense and the still-fresh knowledge that I had partly contributed to his demise still bit at me sorely. There seemed to be an empty, troublesome quietness that he used to fill with poor jokes and easy camaraderie; Fausta's house lacked the only joviality it had ever possessed in his absence. "It was his idea...for Fenris and I to..." I sucked on my cheek, thinking of my surprise in the moment when he asked me to escape – and to take Fenris with me.
It was such a terrible moment to ask, as well. I had been so furious with the elf, but Kornyn always implored me to see the...less rough side of Fenris. Of Leto.
Vallow halted for a moment, lifting her hand from the brush to readjust the loose braid at her neck. I felt her violet eyes slide past me for a moment, her gaze a heavy weight on my skin before she resumed her scrubbing and dropped her attention from me.
"Maker," I exclaimed in a breathy whisper, sitting back on my calves. "I haven't told anyone about that." I brushed the sheen of sweat from my brow, and a glob of soap dripped from the back of my hand and landed on my nose, tickling as it slid down to the tip. "Kornyn targeted me for a few of his nefarious plots, months ago."
Cool eyes slid across mine before scanning the stale room – always watchful, always wary.
I wish you could come with us.
"Kornyn was always reckless," she answered, tucking a strand of greasy, escaped hair behind her ear. "He drove us all mad with his ideas."
I smiled at the floor as I aimlessly swirled around soap with my brush. "He was a quick one – he would've made a name for himself on the outside, the sneaky bastard." I peered up at Vallow, watching her deft fingers and shadowy instincts. "As you would have."
She scrubbed herself free of her bashful smile before I could be certain it was even there.
"What has it been like?" My brush lay dormant on the floor; she halted her own movements, cocking her head in question. "Being a slave your entire life?"
Vallow sighed, leaning back onto her haunches and rubbing the soreness from her calves away with her thumbs. "What was it like to be free?" she retorted, the bite of the phrase showing through the corners of her eyes.
I shrugged, staring at the musty ceiling. "I was regularly coerced into doing things I did not wish to do. Perhaps the two are not all so different – there are always consequences for every action, slave or not, and though our bodies may be in service now, our minds can never be owned."
Vallow stared away from me as I continued. "I had obligations, friends with their own vices, and other trifles. I had possessions and lovers and –" I bit my lip, feeling homesick as I stared at the hands in my lap. "I wish it would be the same, when we leave. But everything is so different, now. Nothing will be the same." I closed my mouth, remembering to whom I was speaking.
But now that my mind had gotten thinking, it wouldn't shut off.
She doesn't need to know my problems. No one does; she probably wouldn't even believe me if I told her that I was from a future – or alternate universe – and came to this particular time period by magical fluke.
It's hard enough for me to wrap my head around. I am Serah Hawke, the mage and still stupid Marian, the slave. I could have attacked Fausta at any time and fled already.
Why haven't I?
Fenris, a part of me whispered. You haven't attacked the woman who owns you yet because he would be forced to kill you.
He wouldn't, I retaliated. But would I want to change the future further like that? I would have had to kill Fausta, and then anyone who resisted me.
Fenris is accomplishing the same thing, without the bloodshed.
Even when we leave this place, nothing will be the same. I'm changing – we're changing – everything that the future is made of.
Is it worth it?
Never seeing Isabela, or Varric, or Merrill, or Aveline – any of them – ever again?
I could meet them again, I rationalized. Nothing is impossible. Improbable, though, if I must search them out myself.
Father always used to say that once you began rationalizing, you had already lost.
And Aveline may never escape the Blight if my family and I didn't help her and her husband.
Yet, if there is another Marian Hawke existing along with me, and she makes the same choice to speak to that stone years from now – maybe, when the time comes, I can take her place. Almost like nothing happened at all.
But they won't know Fenris anymore – or will they?
I almost shrugged off the thought. Maybe this time around he and Anders won't hate each other so much.
I thought of the healer; if I had collapsed in the Emporium, I would have been taken to him. Was my body lying on a cot, unconscious? Anders would no doubt take good care of me, if I didn't completely disappear.
Who is holding my hand, as these weeks pass?
Who bothers to visit?
Does Fenris even darken the door of Anders' clinic?
Is someone feeding Felix? Mabari do eat quite a lot. Perhaps if there is another Marian and I end up replacing her, I will be the one feeding Felix whilst she – I – am incapacitated. Or gone.
Will I see the other Marian Hawke die, if my body didn't transport along with me?
How could any of this happen at all if I change Fenris's future?
I was giving myself a headache again.
My eyes traveled to Vallow; the quiet, stony elf girl, lost in her own line of thought.
"Kornyn asked me to talk Fenris – Leto – into escaping...but Fenris achieved something greater than I could have hoped." I reached my hand out, stretching until I could grasp her tan fingers. Vallow's eyes flickered to mine again, and a guilty sorrow plagued me.
Why do I deserve this chance?
Vallow has endured far worse than I at the hand of an owner.
An entire life of oppression.
"I wish that you could be freed, as well." I squeezed her fingers, and she finally rewarded me with a dim smile. "You, and Pana. Everyone I promise to not forget my comrades here."
If hope ever fails, remember us.
Remember that we made it, and that we will come back for you someday.
Vallow understood the hope that I did not voice – she understood the vanity of returning to such a horrid, alarming place ever again.
"Thank you."
We broke eye contact after a moment and she resumed scrubbing while I, once again, anticipated the future.
-E-
I began the disquieting ritual of counting lasts.
My last chores as a slave.
The last sputtering scoffs whenever I did something inappropriate – like have a dust fight with Vallow (a fight which she did not condone and only participated in because I infuriated her into retaliating) (I had to sweep up the dust by myself) in the hallways or sticking my tongue out at Amelia's back.
I can't wait until the day I can do it to your face – and then beat the shit out of you afterwards.
Last splinter from the handle of the wretched broom.
Last glare at said broom for gracing me with a damned splinter.
My excitement grew with every noteworthy addition to my list.
It grew difficult to concentrate on anything else as my excitement peaked. Magic twinged in my fingertips with my elation, a conflagration that would not have to be contained for another day.
Maker damn, it will feel good to let go for a while.
I sort of hoped we would be attacked on the way to Marnus Pell so I would have a reason to cast and conjure – despite my worries that Fenris would not accept me as a mage.
I'll offer to tutor his sister the way Father taught me.
Only without the laughter and cheap tricks.
I sighed. Outside, I could feel the rolling heat of the approaching noon baking my pale skin as I tended to the animals.
No one had been officially designated to take up where Kornyn had left off; the beasts residing in the slim pasture didn't take well to me, but I led them around and made certain they were being fed and watered.
I wondered if Father still existed in this time – I could sorely use his advice. On magic, Fenris – and the possible future.
Or futures.
For all of his miserable jokes, he was a powerful mage and insightful teacher; he had never turned me away whenever I had come to him with an honest cry.
The insect song in the air dipped, and I felt my magic tremble within me.
"With luck and training, you and Bethany will be able to control your magic and cast at will."
"Mother says we shouldn't rely on luck."
"If the Hawkes weren't lucky, we would all be abominations, Pup."
"Daddy!"
"Raaaaah, I'm going to eat your soul!"
I rubbed my forehead, doubting that Varania would enjoy the same teaching methods.
But Fenris and Fausta would return soon, and lunch had to be served early for the slaves so we would have our needs out of the way for the day.
I stood, my bare feet stinging against the hard, hot sand. I tried to make a mental list of what to experience with Fenris once we were free, but the thoughts fizzled and died when I laid eyes on Pana as she stood waiting for me at the back entrance to the estate.
Brave, sweet Pana with round, sad eyes and drooping shoulders. She dejectedly took my offered hand and together we made our meek way to the room of the estate where the slaves dined.
A melancholy, bittersweet feeling clung in my chest as I sat down to eat my final meal at house Fausta. Pana stuck directly to my side, unwavering and sweet, clutching my hand tightly in hers.
The weight in my chest grew heavier – though this time, it was not panic that wore upon me, but regret.
I doubted that I would ever feel happy about leaving my little mage behind.
We sat together, and I knew that she had been dwelling upon my imminent departure. I offered her my food, and she politely declined.
She never rejected extra food.
I picked at my roll, watching as a few other slaves choked their food down, left quickly, and were soon replaced by others.
"You'll remember not to be obvious about your magic?" I finally asked anxiously, worrying over her.
Pana nodded solemnly, not raising her eyes from her cup.
"And not to steal cookies? Or break any of Fausta's possessions? And please –"
A familiar voice sighed as a wooden bowl was set beside mine. "She has lived nearly her entire life within this mansion as a slave," Fenris said, flickering his eyes to Pana and struggling to keep a straight face as we stared at him. "She does not need your coddling."
I ran my fingers down the prominent crack in our table – the only table in the room. I frowned at it as I contemplated what to say. I missed you; How was your morning; Why are you covered in bruises? "I love this girl, Fen. I just don't want anything bad to happen to her."
Pana tucked further into my side, grabbing my hand again with her free one while she quietly ate her meal. I looked Fenris over, examining the dark blue discolorations covering his arms. He caught my line of sight and stuck his arms beneath the table. I squinted at him, knowing I would confront him later and wondering what had happened while he was away.
I noticed he still donned the leather armor – and I was almost certain the leather had more rips and bloodstains than it had earlier that morning, but Fenris himself did not appear to have any injuries.
I peered suspiciously up at him. He didn't meet my eyes.
"Is it so hard to understand?" I muttered, noticing a thin slice of crusty blood spanning across his neck. I inhaled and frowned harder, glaring questioningly at Fenris.
The fuck have you been up to?
His meal went untouched and he continued avoiding my gaze. "No, I suppose it isn't," he said gravely as a shadow darkened our cracked table. We collectively raised our heads to see Vallow waver, bun and bowl in hand.
"Sit," I offered, nodding my head at the bench across the table. Her skinny ass slid in without discomfort, and I wrapped an arm around Pana, playing with her long hair and trying to dismiss my moody feelings.
Was it something with his family?
Was it something with us?
Did he just pick a fight with the wrong person?
He's still alive – be thankful for that.
His face was lit by a dry, rueful smile as he stared down at the table. "The guard has officially kicked me out of their roster, as we are both departing this evening. I am not welcome to patrol the estate any longer."
A breath hitched, and I tightened my arm around Pana comfortingly. I'll miss you, too, babe.
"Where are you intending to go?" Vallow asked in a low monotone before taking a large bite out of her roll and washing it directly down with whatever shit was in the bowl.
"South," I answered. "To the Free Marches. Our best bet will be to head south on foot and try to earn coin along the way. I'll not chance a trip to Minrathous."
That's just asking for trouble.
"I'm glad you are so sure," Fenris said beside me, raising an eyebrow.
I chuckled. "I'm shaking in my boots, I swear," I said, wiggling my bare toes against his ankle. Pana buried her face into my shoulder and I knew that something had to be done. I pushed my almost-full bowl and barely bitten biscuit across the table to Vallow in offering and wrapped my other arm around Pana.
"We'll be back," I murmured to Vallow and Fenris as I stood, pulling my little mage up with me.
If Fausta tried to punish us for skipping lunch or something, I would finally give the bitch a piece of my mind – a punch in the face was long overdue.
Before I knew it, I had us crawling beneath our closet, huddled together as we always did. A glow from the rectangular, small window across the room invaded our space, lighting the tips of her hair and glinting in her tears.
"Oh, sweetie," I cooed, pulling her close. She pushed her nose into my collar and trembled for a few minutes, leaking salty tears onto my skin as I held her in reassurance, my heart aching for her pain.
"I'm sorry," Pana's muffled voice sounded after a while. I laid my cheek on the top of her head. "I'm – happy for-"
"It's okay," I said, stroking across her tiny back. "I'm going to miss you, too." After a few seconds of her sniffles, I pulled back to see her face, streaked with red and wet. "Don't fret, sweetheart; it isn't goodbye forever." I rubbed the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs, digging into the most sincere depth of my heart.
"It isn't?" she asked, bottom lip still trembling.
"No," I pulled her close again, squeezing my arms around her shoulders. "You think I could go so long without seeing your sweet face again? I'd die first," I swore, kissing the top of her head. "Fenris and I are leaving to make a life elsewhere; a life where slavery doesn't exist and evil people are not in power. I promise that we'll come back – for you, and Vallow, and anybody else – when it is possible."
"Is it safe out there?" Pana whispered, face full of anxiety. "Will you be safe, so close to the barbarians?"
"Barb-" My eyes widened and I groaned, tickling her sides with my fingers. "Woman, don't talk about my home like that!" She giggled, fighting my attacking fingers and wiggling away. "Barbarians! I'll show you a barbari-"
"Marian," issued a quiet voice from the door. We instantly halted our movements and I rolled out from under the closet, nearly bumping my head on one of the wooden legs in the process. "It's time to get back to work." Vallow ushered us forward, and I helped Pana up first, letting her dart quickly through the door before I grasped Vallow's forearm.
I pulled her into the room and shut the door, making sure we wouldn't be overheard.
Vallow widened her eyes in alarm when I didn't relinquish her limb.
"Take care of her," I implored seriously, finally releasing her. "When I can't."
Vallow squinted at me; she eventually began to nod, not taking her eyes off of me as I passed her and resumed my routine, feeling some of the weight in my chest break apart and drift into hollowness.
-E-
Fenris was cleaning and sharpening knives when I saw him next. I smiled when he looked up from his seated position on the floor of the weapons room – the room where the guards typically geared up for their duty. I had cleaned the leather armor he had worn, using the time to scrutinize every inch of the torn fabric.
What I found troubled me, but I knew that Fenris had not been injured on his outing – at least, not drastically injured. A few bruises and a cut or two indicated that he had, in fact, been in a fight – or punished - while he had been out escorting the Magister.
There were thin slices in the armor – and distressing blood splatters around the cut area. I was unsure when it had happened – they appeared fresh, but I couldn't exactly remember if I had seen them on the leather when he had departed.
The feeling of not knowing what had happened nagged at me.
"Hey," I greeted as he continued sliding a knife across the whetstone. He nodded in acknowledgement, never taking his eyes off the angle of the knife. I placed the armor on a rack that held the other leathers; the rack across the room held the thick metals that the paid guards wore when there was an imminent threat.
Like the night I bested the assassin, I thought, remembering that for a week after the assassin had appeared the guards on active duty wore the plated armor instead of their regular leathers.
And then there was Fenris, who, as a slave, hardly ever wore armor at all.
"Did your mother and sister attack you?" I asked with an arched brow. Fenris looked up at me, confused, and I nodded at the abandoned, ripped –yet clean - leather.
Someone will eventually patch it up.
He exhaled. "No."
The knife resumed its gliding over the stone.
I approached until I was standing over him, looking straight down at his position on the floor. "What's wrong?" I asked him for the second time in twenty-four hours.
Why do both Fenris's insist on being so...so...
Broody?
"Nothing," he lied with a hefty sigh, discarding the razor sharp weapon and hunching over onto his knee. My womens' intuition wouldn't allow me to believe him. His forehead bumped my hip; I lifted my hand, running my fingers through his dark hair in what I hoped was a soothing fashion.
"Are you hurt?" I had to ask; the sight of the ripped leather, his bruised skin, had me nervous for him.
"I'm fine," Fenris answered, and my hand drifted to cradle his jaw. His eyes rose to mine when I manipulated him to look upward.
"But are you hurt?" I pressed, running my gaze over his face, hoping that he would not lie to me again.
He read the intensity in my voice correctly. "Nothing serious," he grudgingly said, pressing his face into my lower belly. "You are aggravatingly stubborn."
"I know." I smiled again, but the happiness dimmed after a moment as I resumed stroking his scalp. "I just care. I don't wish to see you in pain."
"Do you?" he asked suddenly, snapping his head up and poking me in the belly with his chiseled chin.
"Do I not wish to see you in pain?" I asked, bewildered. "Of course I do."
"No," Fenris said, eyes blazing into mine. "Do you care?"
I blinked in surprise. "Of course I do," I said, a little bit hurt. I trailed a finger over his ear and then down his cheek, ending with a rub of my thumb over his bottom lip. "I care a lot about you, Fenris. What would make you think otherwise?"
He stood abruptly, making me stumble back a step. He caught my waist, tugging me forward and pulling me immediately into an amorous kiss; I squeaked at the sudden feeling of a wet, hot mouth on mine, prying my lips apart and forcing me onto my toes.
Oh my; my heart thundered in my chest when I felt his hand caress the small of my back, bowing me against his impressive height. The top of my back pressed against the wall before I was even aware that he had been steadily walking me backwards, his demanding lips consuming and burning up my higher thought processes.
His hand trailed from my hip and played around the top of my thigh before grasping my leg and pulling it upwards; I moaned when I felt him press against me, hard and thrusting and Maker why is my frock hiked up so indecently?
I broke away for air, shivering as his mouth pressed heat down to the corner of my jaw; a draft hit the tops of my bare legs and my bottom and I realized just how exposed I was.
My hands tangled in his hair and he hoisted me up, letting me wrap my legs around his hips as he thrust into me again, making us both groan with the greater contact. My head fell to the wall with a muted thump, and I knew that I was leaving a wet spot on his cloth pants – I also knew that neither of us cared; his mouth met mine again as he continued his thrusting, growing harder against me and pressing in the most delicious way.
I gasped his name and Fenris bit at the skin beneath my jaw, making me shudder and moan again. One of his hands cupped the curve of my bottom, kneading the flesh and pressing me into him in time with his small thrusts and I slowly began the aching climb-
"Ahem."
Fenris jerked away reflexively and I crashed onto the floor – biting my lip and bruising my bottom – with an oof!
I tried to brush off the sudden pain, looking dizzily to the door to see who had interrupted our escapade.
Svanna looked on disapprovingly as Fenris kneeled quickly – apologetically – to assist me. A blush coursed across his face and he wouldn't look in my direction.
I realized why when he helped me stand and my smock fell back into place.
Then I blushed.
"Leto," Svanna said sharply as I stared at the floor, licking the taste of him – and a bit of blood – from my bottom lip. "The Mistress is expecting you in her study."
Fenris nodded. With one more glare at the both of us, Svanna departed.
I exhaled in a gust, gazing askance at Fenris. When I spotted him glancing at me in the same fashion, I bit my lip to hide my embarrassed laughter.
"Ow," I complained when I felt the small tear on my lip. Fenris leaned over and kissed my tiny bite wound gently, pulling back with a sheepish grin. "What got into you?"
He shrugged, properly abashed. I pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms snuggly around his waist.
"I should tell you how much I care more often," I said with a smile, kissing the cloth over his heart. His arms tightened around my back.
"I need to go," he said regretfully, his chin resting on top of my head.
"I know," I responded, releasing him. "I'll see you soon."
Fenris sighed as he turned to exit the door.
"And Fenris?"
He paused, half turning to look over his shoulder.
"You mean a lot to me," I said, feeling bashful and red. A cute smile lit the half of his face that I could see before he left, quietly shutting the door behind him.
I gave him an entire fifty second head start before I took off after him.
-E?-
I reminded myself to thank Vallow for showing me her little peep hole – the slot in the room right beside the Magister's study. I couldn't tell what exactly it was for – I had previously thought it was a slot for letters, but it looked more like a vent that would be found in a bathing room.
Perhaps its use is to be a vent for poison gas, I assumed. The wall was quite thin, however; if there were ever poison in that room, as a mage, I would just blast my way through a wall before I relied upon a tiny vent to keep me alive.
Fenris was blocking my view of Fausta; he stood straight, almost directly in front of the hole where I peeked. I shamelessly ogled the muscles of his back, grateful that I was alone in the dark room.
Quill scratched across parchment – the only sound in the room for the next five minutes, at least.
What are they waiting for?
It didn't even seem like she had acknowledged his presence; yet there he stood, erect and proper, waiting.
Waiting.
Hesitant fingers rapped on the door; my heart jumped at the sudden break in the silence, and I had to work hard to keep my breathing even. I tried to maneuver around to see the door, but damn it, Fenris's shoulder was in the way.
I wished that I could just whisper to Fenris and ask what in the Black City he was doing.
"Enter," Fausta said tersely, rubbing her temple.
A door opened, and someone stepped inside.
"A magister is here to see you, Mistress," Svanna's voice said respectfully.
I almost exhaled in relief; Fausta probably wanted to show Fenris off.
Or something.
Maker damned fickle magisters; how am I supposed to know?
She's so cranky over her financial situation, it's a wonder how she has any friends at all.
There you go, bitch.
"Bring him up," Fausta snapped, and I started to back away from my peep hole.
I could be found at any moment – I would hate to jeopardize our chance at freedom.
Curiosity killed the Hawke.
I was slowly inching away from the wall when Svanna spoke again. "He followed me up, Mistress." There was a creaking sound of the door opening wider. "Master Danarius."
Fuck!
What other BioWare games have you played?
Yes! Woo! This freaking chapter is FINALLY FINISHED! –fistpumpairguitarexplosion-
It only took me, like, two months. -.-